Ode To a Blockhead

Just scrap metal in your bellow? Is your pedal, mellowed old? Poor old friend, you've lost your wheels You dream in color, of rubber burning,... where coughed exhaust, was left behind. Now we're lost, two junk yard pals Relics, that have rusted time. Just a pile of dented fenders, suspended… here, in desert sand. Jammed and stacked, we'll make a pact perhaps the two of us can make a dime. A part of you, a part of me.....perhaps they'll make some artsy thing Snap, crackle, hot and Popular Mechanic, They should come and fix us up Woe is you! You junk yard dog, something smolders in your trunk! Smells of socks, perhaps a skunk? Once so dandy, someone's bug Not so handy, you can't move. How many horses, under that hood...? I would push you if I could ! Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours I'd paint you blue, and paint you bright, If I could, to set you right New transmission, lubed and oiled Anti freeze to make you sneeze Honest Engine, we'll get our kicks, I'll fix you up, and grab the stick Headin' down Route 66........ Get off me blockhead......we are fixed ! _____________________________________________________ 12/10/14 For The "East Jesus" contest: Image number 5 Sponsored by Roy Jergen